The Tributes of District Twelve
by bluenowaitgreen
Summary: Summary: The Quarter Quell is selectively calling for male tributes only. District Twelve is to send Gale and Peeta. How will they fare in the arena? Gale/Peeta  Warnings Inside
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Suzanne Collins owns "The Hunger Games". I do not.

**Warning: **Slash- Gale/Peeta, some dub/non consent for a few chapters, lemons.

**Summary: **The Quarter Quell is selectively calling for male tributes only. District Twelve is to send Gale and Peeta. How will they fare in the arena? Gale/Peeta Slash

**Prologue**

"…_and for this year's Quarter Quell, any two males will be chosen as tributes- regardless of whether they have competed before…" _

Peeta knew he would be returning to the arena the minute he heard the announcement on the TV. He could feel it in his bones. There was only one fortunate part about the Quell, and it was that Katniss would have no chance of being tribute again.

_Katniss. _The thought of her would be the only weapon Peeta needed to stay strong- to survive. However, there would be another participant in the games that would also be fueled by the thought of her.

Peeta's jaw nearly dropped when Gale's name was called on the day of the Reaping. He was more shocked than when his own name was announced. He was sure that Gale was going to jump at the chance to claim his head because there were two very obvious things about him: He was a skilled hunter, and he had a very envious hatred towards Peeta because of his media portrayed love with Katniss.

Of all the people to be chosen, it had to be Gale. Of course Peeta couldn't have someone he could partner up with. He had to be placed with someone he knew wanted him dead. But were partners truly even partners in the Games? Peeta didn't think so.

"You two need to get some good rest before you enter tomorrow." the sound of Haymitch's voice raised Peeta from his thoughts.

"Yeah…" Peeta trailed off, glancing at Gale. He had stayed mostly broody his entire time in the Capitol, and had hardly said a word to Peeta. He spent most of his time training (which made Peeta feel worse about himself, for he did not train nearly as much).

"Well, I'll be seeing you two in the morning, then." Haymitch stood and stumbled from the room, taking with him the pungent smell of alcohol.

Then, there was silence, and the painful awareness of the awkward tension the room held. Or at least that was what Peeta sensed.

Gale stood up and gave Peeta a long stare across the dim room. Finally, he spoke, "Only one of us is coming back for Katniss. And if you truly want what is best for her, you'll let that person be the one she needs. Think about that."

Gale exited the room swiftly. Peeta sat, fuming. Gale thought he was better for Katniss? Where was he during the Games last year? Why could he offer Katniss that Peeta couldn't?

His thoughts continued to swarm, even as he lay down to sleep.

_Let the games begin then, Gale. Let the games begin. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Suzanne Collins owns "The Hunger Games". I do not.

**Warning: **Slash- Gale/Peeta, some dub/non consent for a few chapters, lemons.

**Summary: **The Quarter Quell is selectively calling for male tributes only. District Twelve is to send Gale and Peeta. How will they fare in the arena? Gale/Peeta Slash

**Chapter One**

Peeta stood before the clear cylinder that would lead him into the arena. A booming voice announced that there were five minutes left until he was meant to step onto the platform. Then, it would raise him up into a land he did not know, and never wanted to know. He did not know whether he would be greeted with green pastures filled with bright flowers, or dark woods filled with rapid rivers. The only thing he could see was his certain death, splayed across the screens of the Capitol and districts.

Luckily, he was able to choose most of his wardrobe for the games. He had found a comfortable pair of brown boots that he was quite capable of running in. He wore dark green pants that had many pockets for storing items. This would be especially helpful for times when it was not a good idea to haul around a heavy knapsack.

"TWO MINUTES!"

He looked down at his hands that were rough with calluses. He had practiced many different things this time, rather than disguises, which he had mastered. Since the day his name was announced, he had practiced daily with knives. His aim had improved tremendously through the weeks, and with his notable strength, he could really hurl it a great distance.

He was hoping to rely on camouflaging himself. If he saw individual people pass by, he could throw a knife and still remain relatively unseen. The only thing to worry about would be getting away from the body and disguising himself again. Also, what if the arena didn't leave room for much disguise tactics? He would be screwed if there wasn't some way to hide himself.

He was also fearful that because he was only in the Games last year, people would be on to his strategy. His skills were still fresh to the public eye. The other contestants would probably be watching more closely for him now that they knew what he was capable of.

"THIRTY SECONDS!"

Peeta closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He could do this. He _had _to do this. He would outlive the other eleven districts, and especially Gale. If Gale _was _the person that Katniss needed, he wouldn't be coming home to her again.

He stepped onto the platform as the countdown reached ten seconds. When it began to raise him, the familiar feeling of dread was almost too much for him. He felt a wave of nausea spread over him and he stumbled over himself to keep from falling into the arena. _That's just what I need, _he thought with a grimace_, wouldn't that just be the best way to die in here._

All at once, the contestants leapt from their platforms and began to rush in different directions.

"Oh, shit!" Peeta muttered, and hopped down to the ground as well. If he was already too distracted to hear the Games begin, how could he be sure to last even a day in there?

He sprinted away from the center, hardly pausing to look at what lay there. It seemed to be some sort of pyramid structure. The bottom of the pyramid held the simplest of weapons and necessities while the top held items more vicious. The sun bounced off the shiny silver of a large, menacing looking sword at the top. Peeta felt ill from one glance at it.

He continued to run away from the pyramid. He couldn't quite tell what he was running to, but it was definitely different from his first experience in the arena. He ran in zigzag patterns until he passed under a large, broken arch-like structure.

His eyes widened. This place was _incredible._ The Game makers mimicked what looked like some sort of ancient ruins of an old civilization, something way older than Panem! It looked like what was left of District thirteen, but less gloomy. These ruins were covered in vines and wild flowers that flowed from the surrounding Jungle. There were steps that seemed to go miles high, and balconies and platforms that jutted out from impossible places to reach. Had Peeta not been fighting for his life right now, he knew this would be a place he could explore for hours. He really hoped for a good source of water. He knew what he could and couldn't eat, and he had learned to set a good number of traps. But if he couldn't any water, none of that would matter.

He looked around to make sure he had not been found. It had only been several minutes since it started, and he was hoping to see if anyone had made it to the top of the pyramid. He needed to know who had the best of the weapons.

When he felt certain that no one had followed him, he settled down in a part of the ruins where he could watch and remain unseen. He leaned against the golden brown wall and allowed himself to slide down until he was sitting. He ran a hand through his blond hair, wondering if this was the last time he'd ever feel it when it was clean. He felt defeated. He had not grabbed a single weapon, and had almost been killed out there when he lost his focus. But how is anyone supposed to focus in this arena? He knew he couldn't pretend to make alliances. The audience soon found out that Peeta was lying the whole time for the sake of Katniss. There was no way anyone would trust him after seeing that. He was on his own.

He took several minutes to calm down before looking to where he had ran from. There were several bodies lying dead beside the pyramid. Peeta hated that he immediately recognized them as less competition. When his eyes drifted to the top of the pyramid, his stomach clenched. Gale was there, standing proudly as he admired the sharp blade of the sword Peeta had seen. His shirt was torn revealing a large section of his tan, toned chest. There was blood smeared over nearly all of him, but he didn't appear to be injured in the slightest.

Peeta watched as he took his time gathering items into several knap sacks. He was envious to see Gale picking through the best of the items. Why couldn't someone from another district have killed him at the beginning? Gale was going to be the biggest competition for Peeta. He was terrified at the thought of the game coming down to them. Could Katniss forgive him if he killed her best friend?

When Gale seemed satisfied with what he'd collected, he began to swiftly make his way around the pyramid. As he reached the bottom stair, an object sailed by him in a blur and clattered into the pyramid. Peeta saw that it was an arrow. Another flew towards Gale, who ducked to avoid it. He flung his bags to the ground and began to shoot in the direction the arrows were coming from. Peeta watched, amazed at the swiftness with which Gale could pluck an arrow from his quiver and send it to his target. He certainly rivaled Katniss, and was maybe even better than her.

There was a loud cry, the sound of leaves shuffling, and a sickening crack as a boy from District two fell to the ground from the tree he was perched in. Gale ran over to him and did a quick scan to see if any others were around. The boy was young, and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. The arrow had struck his abdomen, and his fingers fidgeted around as he debated whether to yank it out or not. Gale leaned in close to the boy, brandishing a knife in his hand.

It was impossible to hear their conversation from Peeta's distance, but he was still able to see the frantic shake of the boy's head and the indifferent mask that Gale kept upon his face. When the boy had calmed down, he and Gale spoke for several minutes. Why hadn't Gale killed him? Peeta couldn't help but wonder what Gale was playing at. The boy gave several nods, and closed his eyes. Gale took the blade of the knife and slid it along the boy's throat. The sudden movement startled Peeta, who looked away from the spewing blood.

When Peeta returned his gaze, Gale had already collected his bags. He looked at the arch where Peeta had passed under just minutes before. He smiled, and headed toward the ruins.


	3. Chapter 3

**If I get more reviews on this story, I'll consider seriously sitting down and writing a good plot and having longer chapters ****J**

Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns "The Hunger Games". I do not.

Warning: Slash- Gale/Peeta, some dub/non consent for a few chapters, lemons.

Summary: The Quarter Quell is selectively calling for male tributes only. District Twelve is to send Gale and Peeta. How will they fare in the arena? Gale/Peeta Slash

_It was raining, it was so cold. _

_Hips were grinding against him. The body on top of him was the only thing providing him warmth. He couldn't open his eyes, he could only feel, and what he felt was hardness against him. Hands ran up his shirt and fingers went to tease his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. There was no time to berate himself for making so much noise in the arena. He needed more of the warmth that this body was providing. Peeta reached to wrap his hands around this mysterious figure of the night. His hands were slapped away and shoved high above his head. He gave a pitiful whimper and tried to break free, desperate to become warmer, desperate to grab hold of the body on top of him. A mouth descended upon his. The kiss was brutal and rough and made Peeta melt into the ground. The figure on top of him broke the kiss and sat up.. Peeta heard a malevolent laugh and looked up to see Gale brandishing a knife._

Peeta awoke in the rain. His disguise of caked dirt had been completely soaked and ruined and turned to mud. He looked around in a panic, searching to see if anyone was around.

He carefully stood to survey the area. He needed to find a place that could shelter him from the rain. Perhaps he could go back to the ruins, there was shelter there. But that was also the last place he saw Gale.

Gale. Gale was in his dream. What was _that_ all about? If anything, he should be dreaming about Katniss, not Gale! Not Gale, who was trying to murder him in the arena.

He decided Gale wouldn't be hanging around the ruins. He was probably far into the arena now. Why would he have waited around at the entrance of it all? Peeta began to make his way to the ruins. There were so many alcoves and stairs in that place that he could duck for cover and not be found for days, possibly.

So far, six people had died. He figured it would have been more. Some of the tributes seemed absolutely ruthless. The fact that there were only males in the arena scared Peeta even more. This was a game of pure testosterone. He didn't want to prove he was the alpha male. He just wanted to go home to Katniss.

Suddenly he stopped. There was a light in the distance. Who would be foolish or confident enough to have a fire? Did he keep heading for the ruins and risk interaction with this person? He wanted to try and get out alive without killing as much as possible. What if the person heard him and started a conflict? He sighed. He'd have to go off course at least a mile if he were to be sure that this person wouldn't notice him.

He started walking left when he heard a noise behind him. He whipped around and saw no one. He felt hands around him and he shivered upon feeling a cold metal at his neck.

_This is the end, _Peeta thought. _I hardly made it a day._

He heard a whizzing noise fly past his head and the grip on him loosened, and then fell away from him completely.

"What?" He looked around in confusion. One minute a knife was against his neck and the next minute he was lucky to be alive. His attacker had an arrow sticking out of his eye. Peeta shuddered in disgust. Why would anyone save him?

He heard a shifting noise in the trees above him and a figure dropped down to the ground. It was Gale, brandishing a large bow and a quiver of arrows on his back.

"Hello, little Mellark." He smiled menacingly.

Peeta's heart dropped. He just survived to be killed by his enemy. "Do it." He said hoarsely. All the rain was beginning to make him sick. He coughed, and said, "Just do it."

"Pull out your weapons and drop them on the ground." Gale said, stepping toward Peeta.

"Why?" Peeta asked. "You already have me. I'm pretty much dead."

"Do it, or I'll make it slow and painful for you." Gale hissed.

Peeta gave a sigh and pulled his knife from his pocket. He threw it on the ground and tried to look at Gale without fear.

Gale dropped his bow and pulled out his knife. He walked closer to Peeta and suddenly lunged out, drawing Peeta close to his body.

"I could kill you right now," Gale whispered in his ear.

"I know. I'm ready." Peeta whispered back. He wasn't ready. He would never be ready. He was scared. But he would not beg.

"Death isn't enough though." Gale's hand began to travel down Peeta's chest. "I don't want to just kill you. I want to _destroy_ you."

Peeta shivered. "What do you mean?" He jumped against Gale when he felt a hand shove down into his pants.

"What are you doing?!" He screeched.

"Shut up!" Gale whispered, slapping his hand against Peeta's mouth. Peeta whimpered from the harsh force upon his face.

The hand continued to search in his pants until it found a grip around Peeta's member.

"Please, stop!" Peeta mumbled through the hand on his mouth. He was mortified and humiliated. What was going on?

"I'll do what I want, Mellark. Is this what you wanted to do with my Katniss? Is that what you _did_ with Katniss? I won't let you get away with any of it."

He wanted to tell Gale he didn't do anything with Katniss, but he wasn't able to speak. He couldn't struggle away in fear of Gale's knife slicing against his neck. All he could do what try to keep his tears from spilling out of his eyes.

The hand began to pump away at his member. He was horrified to find himself growing hard at Gale's rough touch. His pants mixed with his terrified whimpers.

"You like this, don't you? I knew you weren't cut out for Katniss. I'm the only one that's meant for her."

Peeta began thrusting his hips against the hand in his pants. It felt so good. So, so good. No one had ever touched him like that besides himself. He was horrified to find himself enjoying it from another man, even more so that it was Gale.

He could feel it coming. He began to grow hot all over his body despite the soaking rain. It felt amazing. Suddenly, he was shoved to the ground. He was covered in mud from head to toe. He looked at Gale with a mix of confusion, fear, and disappointment. _Disappointment? No. Not that_. Peeta tried hard to deny it.

"Run along. I've got plans for you, but that's for later. I've got other things to attend to. We'll finish what we started later." He laughed, and ran off into the night, leaving Peeta cold, wet, and very, very flustered.


End file.
